lirik lagu anne sexton - doors, doors, doors - section 3
dear love, as simple as some distant evil
we walk a little drunk up these three flughts
where you tacked a dufy print above your army cot
the thin apartment doors on the way up will
not tell us. we are saying, we have our rights
and let them see the sandwiches and wine we bought
for we do not explain my husband’s insane abuse
and we do not say why your wild~haired wife has fled
or that my father opened like a walnut and then was dead
your palms fold over mе like knees. love is the only usе
both a little drunk in the afternoon
with the forgotten smart of august on our skin
we hold hands as if we were still children who trudge
up the wooden tower, on up past that close platoon
of doors, past the dear old man who always asks us in
and the one who sews like a wasp and will not budge
climbing the dark halls, i ignore their papers and pails
the twelve coats of rubbish of someone else’s dim life
tell them need is an excuse for love. tell them need prevails
tell them i remake and smooth your bed and am your wife
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